“Others merely hear, but we see and touch”

Summer Biblical Study Session at the “École Biblique”

Ten English-speaking Dominican students came from all over the world to Jerusalem to the École Biblique et Archéologique Française for a summer biblical study program organised by Fr. Gregory Tatum at the request of the Master of the Order.

Fr. Ronan CONNOLY (Ireland), Fr. Philip SOREH (Burma), Fr. Joseph Mary Nhan Cao DO (Canada), Fr. Art Vincent PANGAN (Philippines), Fr Gregory TATUM (U.S.A.), Fr. Dominic Tuan NGO (U.S.A.), Fr. Leo CHECKAI (U.S.A.), Fr. Dominic Chukwudi OKOYE (Nigeria), Fr. Alan Jan DELY (Slovakia), Fr. Gaston BERTERO (Argentine), Fr. Laurent MATHELOT (Belgium).

This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for us to read the Bible in the land in which it was written, to study the history and topography of Jerusalem and the Holy Land on the field. And for each of us, it is also a pilgrimage to the Holy Places of Jerusalem, Israel and Palestine, a journey on the steps of the Lord.

During three weeks, from Temple Mount to the Olive Garden, from Qumran to Bethlehem, from Nazareth to the Sea of Galilee, landscapes, fragrances, atmospheres are to enliven and enrich our reading of the Scripture and our future preaching.

It is also for us an opportunity to meet an important institution of the Order dedicated to the study of the Bible as a “book of stones”.

Fr. Marie-Joseph Lagrange in 1890.

The history¹ of the ÉcoleBiblique began with Fr. Marie-Joseph Lagrange OP (1855-1938) who landed in the port of Jaffa on 9 March 1890. He had been ordered to found a school for biblical studies in Jerusalem, where the Dominicans had a small monastery but he had no funds, no professors, no library and no students – and none were promised.

It took him two days’ hard walking, across the coastal plain and up into the mountains, to get to Jerusalem. In that short time everything changed. He subsequently wrote, “I was moved, seized, gripped by this sacred land, and I abandoned myself to the delightful appreciation of distant and historic times. I had so loved the book, and here I was gazing at its setting! Not a single doubt remained in my mind about the aptness of pursuing biblical study in Palestine”.²

At that time in the Catholic church the historical background of the Bible had effectively been ignored with the result that a body of interpretation had developed that had little contact with the reality of the text. Research in a number of fields of Orientalism had shown that traditional interpretations were to a great extent defective. Those, such as Lagrange, who were aware of the implications of such discoveries, wanted to bring the interpretation of the Bible up to date. 

Fr. Roland de Vaux at Qumran.

The second generation of Dominican professors began arriving at the Ecole Biblique in the 1930s. The first was Roland de Vaux OP (1903-1971) who was one of the last scholars to master both the Old Testament and field archaeology. He published on the history of the Old Testament, but he was the first professor at the Ecole Biblique to conduct a major excavation. He identified Tell el-Farah near Nablus as Tirza, the first capital of the Northern Kingdom, and excavated it thoroughly. Subsequently the Jordanian government invited him to undertake the excavation of Qumran, the site of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

It was the third generation to which belonged Marie-Émile Boismard OP (1916-2004), a world-renowned specialist in textual criticism and the Gospel of John that produced the Bible de Jérusalem. Most of the professors at the École Biblique were directly involved in this ground-breaking project. The principles it embodied – translations from the original texts, each done by a specialist in that book, detailed introductions and notes reflecting the best in modern critical research, layout distinguishing prose from poetry – have now become standard practice, but in the late 1940s they were revolutionary. This was a new dawn in Catholic biblical studies; for the first time in the church’s history the Bible was made accessible to non-specialists. 

Excavations at Qumran.

The current major project of the École Biblique is The Bible in its Traditions –http://www.bibest.org. It is designed to take those who grew up with the Jerusalem Bible a step forward by exhibiting complex aspects of biblical studies that have been considered beyond the ability or interest of non-specialists. Thus, where there are different (and irreconcilable) versions of certain books, e.g. Jeremiah and the Acts of the Apostles, both will be displayed with the same prominence. The enriched annotation will be divided into three main registers. The first, ‘Text’, will include all the notes dealing with the linguistic and literary description of the text, from points in textual criticism to more literary remarks. The second, ‘Contexts’, will group notes dealing with archaeology, history, geography, realiaor texts of the ancient world and cultures, relevant to the production of a Biblical text. The third, ‘Reception’, will be the largest zone of annotation; it is to comprise the most important readings of the text throughout history, starting from intertextual echoes in parallel texts (in the canonical Bible, in Jewish tradition, or in apocryphal works), and continuing to some of the most important readings, including the Church Fathers, medieval Latin and Orthodox theologians, Syriac and other Oriental writers and Protestant Reformers. See for example : http://www.bibest.org/bible/Jas5.13-18. The main actual concern of The Bible in its Traditions' project is to find translaters and contributors.

Soldiers at the Via Dolorosa.

One is not a Dominican if not also deeply rooted in the actual world. Realities of the socio-political situation between Israel and Palestine echo in the refectory of the ÉcoleBiblique. And of course on the ground the military and police presence is impressive. From site to site we have to cross checkpoints, and if sometimes we have to wait one hour for the control of our vehicle, we do not forget that for the Palestinians this happens daily. The security fence that disfigures landscape and isolates people acts on us as a reminder.

                     

Title : St. Cyril, Bishop of Jerusalem (349-386), Catech. 13:22.

1 parts of this text are quotations from Jerome Murphy-O’Connor OP, Reading the Bible in the Land in which it was Written: A Dominican Vision.

2 Henry Wansbrough (trans.), Père Lagrange. Personal Reflections and Memoirs. 

What I did in the summer...La Route Dominicaine

Walking long distances is a very Dominican activity. St Dominic walked countless miles preaching the Gospel in southern France and northern Italy in the earliest days of the Order.

Later that century, St Albert the Great, as Provincial of Teutonia then Bishop of Regensburg, had such a job visiting his priories and parishes that he earned the nickname 'The Boot'. It was to send a clear signal of evangelical poverty that these early Dominicans refused to ride horses. Just as Jesus sent out the first disciples on foot, so do we poor preachers follow in their footsteps. We still don't ride horses! Now, while modern transportation has of course become indispensable, we must always strive for a prudent poverty and simplicity of lifestyle, suitably to adorn our preaching of spiritual riches. And so, occasionally, it is good to get back to basics, and leave behind the settled comforts of community or family life.

That is why I jumped at the opportunity in the summer to go on a Dominican pilgrimage in France. It was in fact the third such pilgrimage, called La Route Dominicaine, organised by brothers of the Province of France. We walked between two monasteries of Dominican nuns, from Chalais on the massif de la Charteuse to Langeac in the Auvergne, a total distance of almost 300km, thus completing the triangle of earlier hikes from Langeac via Taulignan to Chalais in 2007 and 2009.

There were fourteen walking days, with two rest days on the way, so that we arrived at Langeac in time to celebrate St Dominic's feast (8 August) with the nuns. We received perfect hospitality along the way, in parish halls and a wide array of communities, including Dominican nuns, Dominican apostolic sisters, Trappist nuns, L'Arche, Augustinian canons, Jesuits, a Foyer de Charité, and an ancient Marian sanctuary.

It was providential that so many great religious sites and communities lay on the route. From Notre Dame d'Ay to the great Puy-en-Velay, a popular starting point for the Camino to Compostela, we witnessed the deep Christian heritage of France, the 'eldest daughter of the Church'.

The basically Francophone group comprised four Dominican brothers (two priests, a deacon and me), a Dominican laywoman, and seven other young Catholics. There was only one other Englishman, and he is now a novice in our Province.

One of the highlights was our cooking an English roast for the group, with very meagre materials and ingredients: we thought it was something of a disaster, but everyone else gushed about these amusing but delicious things called Yorkshire puddings!

Imaginative French cuisine, too, mitigated the austerities of our very limited budget. But cooking was just one aspect of the wonderful camaraderie we shared on pilgrimage. Jokes, stories, poems, walking songs, religious songs – all these contributed to a lively ethos.

This was aided by beautiful weather – we had only one day of heavy rain, though that was quite refreshing after temperatures had risen to 40°C! We were able to celebrate God's creation even as we toiled along boiling tarmac in the Isère or trudged up mountains in the Ardèche. Indeed, blisters and muscle aches seem to be an inevitable part of the spiritual purification to which all pilgrimages lead.

We prayed the Liturgy of the Hours en route. I had never yet experienced the combination of beautiful canticles and breathtaking landscapes; and now I will never forget it. 'And you, mountains and hills, O bless the Lord...To him be highest glory and praise for ever!' (Dan. 3:75) We celebrated daily Mass either with our various hosts or along the way, so there was no lack of Dominican preaching.

In addition, we were encouraged to dedicate each day of walking to a particular intention of our choice. In the afternoons, we often paused for a time of reflection and partage on the great themes of the Christian life. We talked about poverty, wayfaring, prayer (including Dominic's nine ways), suffering, reconciliation, the Bible, preaching, prophecy, Mary, and the manifold ways in which the Holy Trinity guides us, sustains us, and loves us along our life's journey. As if to exemplify this, at many turns we encountered strangers and other wayfarers – the friendly, the intrigued, and the one or two sadly hostile – many of whom were inspired by our youthful and unobtrusive witness to Christ.

Friendship, fraternity, gratitude and joy, plus physical exhaustion and the vain hope for an easier path just over the next summit(!) – these are surely images of the Christian life. For me, this pilgrimage concretely expressed the fact that the Dominican way of following Christ is a harmonisation of activity (walking and preaching) with contemplation (prayer and liturgy). 

In the end, we resumed our normal lives, in the home, the community and the workplace; but I think we will all have found something in us was different. I hope, for my part, that this pilgrimage has helped me become just a little bit better at following in the footsteps of Christ, and his faithful preacher, St Dominic.

What I did in the Summer.....France

Every summer the student brothers here at Blackfriars  are dispatched from Oxford to go and do something useful at another Dominican Priory. Usually this means some kind of pastoral placement, for example some time spent working in a prison, or a hospital,  or a university chaplaincy and so on. In my case this  year it meant spending some time with our French brothers in Lille on a language placement. 

Kipling once proclaimed: 'what should they know of England, who only England know?' I am always  reminded of this when I  get the opportunity to visit Dominican houses outside of the English Province. One can often gain a new perspective on one's own practices and traditions when one sees the same charism expressed in another culture and ecclesial context. I always find this a useful reminder of the spaciousness of  the Dominican vocation. At its heart is a call to preach the gospel: when it comes to undertaking this mission there is much scope for creativity.

The French expression of the Dominican charism has been a powerful one in recent centuries.  French Friars were at the heart of the Order's revival in the nineteenth century and their theologians had an enormous influence on the second Vatican council. It was fascinating to see close up the life of a Province which has such a rich tradition and history.

What I Did in the Summer ... Placement in St Petersburg

At the beginning of July I was ordained deacon and, soon afterwards, I set out for my placement in a parish, which is quite a common place for deacons to be sent during the summer after their ordination. It’s not quite so common, though, for that parish to be in Russia, which is where I went, to our Dominican house and parish of St Catherine of Alexandria in St Petersburg. Why Russia? you might well ask. Wasn’t there somewhere in England I could have gone? Of course, I could have stayed in England, but I had studied Russian at university before I joined the Order and so asked the Student Master if I might be able to go to Russia to brush up my Russian and to get to know the brethren and their work in that country. He said yes, so off I went.

St Catherine’s is a busy church right in the centre of St Petersburg, attracting many visitors as well as a stable base of about 700 active parishioners: they comprise people from traditionally Catholic families (e.g. of Polish, Lithuanian, or German descent), as well as a substantial number of adult converts and quite a few foreigners working or studying in Russia’s ‘Northern capital’. With three Masses in the parish every day (more on Sundays, of course), and a homily at every one, there was plenty of work to go round the six members of the community, who also have various other projects and responsibilities.

One of the “new” things a deacon is able to do, as an ordained minister, is to preach at Mass, to which this placement was a very good introduction: by the end of my time in Russia, I was preaching four or five times a week: in English at the Sunday English Mass, and also for the Missionaries of Charity, whose multi-national communities use English as a common language, but then in Russian the rest of the time, which brought my Russian up to scratch pretty quickly! Preaching so often also revealed to me in a way I hadn’t really imagined, before having to do it, quite how much for a Dominican our prayer and study and preaching all relate to each other and draw on each other.

As well as preaching regularly, I took my turn being “on duty” in the church for people who wanted to talk to a friar, which gave me a small insight into the range of questions the parish clergy have to deal with, from the fairly practical business of arranging dates for Mass intentions to be said to very profound questions about people’s spiritual life.

Overall, I felt my placement gave me a good introduction to the “bread and butter” of life in a busy parish, to which, being a deacon, I was able to contribute in ways I hadn’t previously experienced. On top of that, of course, it gave me the opportunity to return to Russia and renew my acquaintance both with the language and culture and with the situation of the Catholic Church there. There is plenty of work for the Church and the Order in Russia, but, as in so many places, ‘the harvest is plentiful but the labourers are few,’ (Lk 10: 2) so please do keep the Dominican Order and its work in Russia in your prayers.

What I Did in the Summer ... Hospital Chaplaincy

Each year, student Dominicans do a summer Pastoral Placement, usually of around a month, and typically based in one of the other priories in our Province, sometimes sharing in the specialist ministry of one our friars. This summer I was based at the London Priory, and, along with some parish and local primary school experience, I spent most of my time engaged in hospital chaplaincy. I was working with Peter Harries OP who is the lead chaplain at University College London Hospital, and alongside the rest of the Catholic and ecumenical teams.

I spent my time visiting patients and reflecting on these visits with Peter and, to some extent, the other chaplains. It proved to be a varied and very rich experience. You never know as you go from bed to bed what situation you will encounter: a person who has just been told they are going home; one who has been told there is little or no chance of them ever going home; those whose spirits are up, those who are struggling; families and friends at bedsides who also need attention. Besides that, the hospital staff are worthy of attention. As well as all manner of sickness, and some recoveries, I was involved in about ten cases involving deaths.

Across this range of people and situations, I met some with a steady faith, some whose faith was ‘heroic’, some struggling, some questioning, some angry. Some people were obviously growing and some perhaps risked diminishing in grace. Many had more questions about life and God than they usually had, and a lot of people do, in effect, engage in some sort of re-evaluation of their life faced with illness or imminent death. All of this was true of the sick and of their carers. It was also moving how people without explicit faith often thought and acted in what I can only call a very graced way.

What did I learn? It needs wisdom and discernment to know when and what to speak, to pray or when to be quiet. Though an effective chaplain establishes very real human links, I was not there as family or long-established friend. I was there precisely as a chaplain, to bring my faith, hope and love to bear on their situations, so that Christ could minister to them. Although I committed my energy, gifts, personality and time I was aware that the real work was that of Christ, often independently of me, sometimes in spite of me, if sometimes through me. For that reason, I was glad to go and pray in the chapel between sessions and to participate in Mass every day. My own experience of difficulty in life helped. It was by drawing on my own experience of encountering God who has been, and is, present in my own brokenness, sustaining me, that I was ‘able to help others with the help with which Christ had helped me’ (cf 2 Cor 1:3-4). That is a lesson for the future and for other forms of preaching the gospel as well.